Anthropomorphism
by MorbusParkinson
Summary: Stiles is a police officer in Beacon Hills. Derek is half dog, half wolf - but turns into a man at full moon. They cross each others paths and life starts changing. Pairing: Sterek.


**Anthropomorphism**

**Annotations:**

**Series: **Teen Wolf [not mine]

**Genre: **AU, romance, drama, mystery, slash (only fluff )

**Pairing: **Sterek, Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale

**Cameos: **Jydia, Scallison, Jackson Whittemore, Lydia Martin, Allison Argent, Scott McCall

**Summary: **Stiles is a police officer in Beacon Hills. He is about to become 30 years old, single. He had other plans for his life when he went to college but one day everything had changed for him, so he had returned to his home town and hasn't found any motivation to move on in his life, yet. He happily pretends to be alright although deep inside nothing is alright, nothing feels right. When the house of the foresting family named Hale burns down only one survives: Derek – half dog, half wolf. The Hale incident is a mystery and so is the dog. Trying to solve this mysterious case Stiles gets emotionally involved when he takes in Derek. In the end he finds himself dealing with his emotional luggage he had tried to run away from.

Oh and Derek… is more than just a dog…

**Word count: **4,977

**Betareading by: **LadyAya. I can't be more thankful!

**Prologue**

It was a weird sight.

For all of them.

They were pretty much used to Stiles appearing alone at the barbeque that Scott and Allison host the first Sunday of every month. They were also used to him being too late. Every time. It was not because he was a guy you could not rely on or someone who used to be unpunctual. They all knew he just had a lot in mind, a lot of things to do and a job that required all of his attention. And here they had always thought… no, TOLD him that he needed a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend. Something else than his work to pay his attention to. Someone else. Actually it was just about Stiles becoming more and more like a pathetic bachelor with little social interaction except for work and the barbeques.

So they were expecting him again to show up late today, blabbering something about a case this and about a case that and how he had read something interesting about this and that but never talking about having actually MET someone special. Hell, they were desperate to hear him say just for once 'Hey is it okay to bring someone to the barbeque? Or, Hey I met someone the other day and just wanted to introduce you to that one special person.' Not only for his own sake but for their own because they slowly started to have something like… a guilty conscience about being married, about expecting children, about buying houses and talking about their wonderful family lives.

But they would have never expected him to show up like this. Yes, yes the uniform had kind of grown on him, they had gotten used to seeing him in that outfit, so that was not exactly the disturbing thing about him.

It was more this ridiculously huge, pitch-black dog that looked more like a wolf next to him.

"Didn't he tell you that… he would bring someone with him?" Lydia was the first one to speak out loud what everybody was thinking right now.

"I know… but he didn't actually say that he would bring someone… human," Allison answered. She faked a smile to hide her irritation. She really would prefer to not make her husband's best friend feel embarrassed due to her desire to slap him in the face and yell at him while grabbing his shoulders and shaking him.

Lydia probably wanted to do the same but was more likely to consider actually doing it.

Jackson rolled his eyes, Danny face-palmed, Scott couldn't help but to let his mouth fall open in pure astonishment.

"I don't get it. So he's here with a dog. What's so special about it?" John, obviously being the new guy among them, said. He barely knew Stiles. He barely knew anything about the relationship between Stiles and the others. And he could barely understand what this was about. The only thing he knew for sure about Stiles was that he was going to turn 30 this year, that he was a police officer, single, Scott's best friend and a fast talking, most of the time flailing and a silly but funny person. He could very well understand that a guy like him probably had a hard time finding a person to complete him – like Danny was for him – because somehow he considered Stiles as a very unique person. The more unique one was the more difficult it was to find someone to be the Yang to the Ying.

"Shut up, silly," Lydia hissed at him, looking like a green eyed witch about to scratch his face to shut him up and putting up a tensed smile towards Stiles who walked up to them, taking off his dark sunglasses, waving stupidly at them.

"Hey guys, sorry for the delay, I had some trouble with-"

"- the monstrous beast following you on your way to grandma, little red riding hood?" She teased him. He knew very well she was around him. He knew she didn't do that to make him feel bad, but he knew she teased him to tell him that something was bothering her.

Stiles was a bit annoyed and looked around as if he hadn't noticed the dog until now.

"Wha-, oh… oh that… that is," he started explaining, scratching the back of his head with the sunglasses.

"An awfully huge dog," Allison muttered.

"Well, yes, he IS a huge dog indeed," he laughed. But Allison didn't. Neither did Lydia. No one did. What was wrong with them? Had he interrupted something? Was the dog bothering them? Really?  
He watched Allison glance at Scott, maybe to make him DO something about it. But Scott had frozen.

"Uhm, well, anyway," Stiles continued.

"I didn't think you would bring him," Scott finally said while Allison shot a death glare at him.

"You knew he was bringing a monster to the party and didn't bother to inform me of it?" she asked. Scott started stammering a response. Before this could turn into a serious case of marital row, Stiles knew he had to somehow explain everything – although he couldn't possibly understand what the exact problem was here.

"As I was going to say," he started as he felt their searching eyes on him, "meet Derek." He turned his head towards the dog that had stopped behind him, skeptically staring at the people in front of Stiles. "Derek, come here," he ordered but Derek sort of ran away. He actually didn't really run but decided to walk to the other side of the backyard, halting in a corner, lowering his head and observing the scene from a safe distance. "Or walk away and ignore me," Stiles sighed, taking a seat and helping himself to a bottle of beer from the ice box and opening it up as if nothing unusual had happened and took a long sip.

They were still staring at him. He watched them closely while emptying half of the bottle, before he threw one hand lazily into the air asking "what?" in a high-pitched voice.

Allison took a deep breath, pouted for an instance and then slowly muttered, "I… we just were thinking you would bring someone with you, you know, a person. A girl. A boy. SOMEONE. And not… that," she made an angry gesture towards Derek who seemed to be very well aware of the fact that he was the subject of the humans' discussion.

"I never said I would bring a person," Stiles answered, trying to smile at Allison to calm her down. Seriously, had she been that sensitive and overreacting during her other two pregnancies and he just hadn't noticed back then?

"But you… YOU… ," she bit her lip. Oh damn, she was mad at him. But for what? She gave Scott another angry look. "And YOU. YOU could have WARNED me before I started getting excited over all this!" Scott twitched and pulled his shoulders up.

"I didn't know he would bring Derek here, I swear," he defended himself.

"But you knew that he had chosen to get a dog? A dog is the last nail in his bachelor coffin!"

"Uh, guys. Hello? How am I not part of this conversation about my bachelor lifestyle?" Stiles tried his best to keep them from starting a fight. A fight between Scott and Allison always required a lot of listening to Scott's whining about how furious she can get about such little stupid things when she was pregnant and right now, just right now, Stiles really didn't want to hear it. He had always listened to all of Scott's little problems, whiney feelings and his emotional issues but Stiles clearly didn't feel like listening to something he had witnessed in person. It would make him part of the fight and he really preferred not to be.

"Then just tell them about this whole Derek crap," Scott answered. Then, suddenly, this phrase came out of his mouth, "Allison, I tried to reason with him but he just wouldn't listen. I knew it was a stupid idea."

Thank you, you backstabbing idiot.

"And I still don't get your reactions when I got here. I show up, expecting to have a good time with you guys and I don't see any problem with the dog." Stiles took another sip of his beer. Maybe they would explain it to him. Although, he could almost guess what this was all about… again. "It's not even like I WANTED to bring him with me. You know he doesn't even listen at all to ANY command and clearly he is somehow trying to avoid me, but when I stopped at the house for a couple of minutes to feed him after I finished my shift, he suddenly jumped inside the Jeep and nothing could persuade him to get out again. So I called to ask if it was okay to bring someone with me. Okay, okay, I get it, the word 'someone' does really give the impression of me being accompanied by a person but I was in a hurry because I was so late and I really didn't feel like fighting with him again and… Hey, I just didn't think it would be such a big deal, okay!? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend anyone or make someone feel uncomfortable, oh my god," he said while his voice sounded more and more annoyed. And yes, this was fucking annoying.

Before anyone could answer that (and you could tell from the look in Scott's face that he was about to reply something like 'I told you that dog means chaos') a sudden squeak filled the air.

And then, everything went too fast. The kid running towards Derek. Derek getting up as if hit by a lightning, baring his teeth, growling deeply, twitching with every part of his body – clearly in a defensive pose. Allison yelling the kid's name. The kid still running towards the dog with stretched arms, looking forward to just touching his fluffy fur and all excited about a dog's presence in the yard. Derek barking. Kid squeaking. Allison running and yelling. Derek running. Kid running. In a twisted way this could have been a really funny thing to laugh about. But no one was laughing. Allison caught her child and dragged it with her back into the house. She also ordered the other kid that had been about to start running, too to follow her back into the house.

Derek was gone.

Maybe had jumped into the bushes.

Maybe had jumped over the fence.

Maybe he was gone for good.

Oh great.

Stiles downed the rest of his beer and threw his arm up into the air again.

"Beautiful," he mumbled, raising his body up and walking calmly to the spot where Derek had been a second ago. As if a scared animal that had run away wasn't a pain in the ass already, Derek wasn't just an animal. He was the embodiment of a pain in the ass. At this point, Stiles had to admit that Scott had been right about Derek being a difficult dog. And yes, Stiles had known before that Derek hardly ever listened to anything. But he just had to do something; he had to take care of him somehow.

How did you take care of something that constantly ran away from you?

He tried to call him by his name a few times. He tried the dog whistle. He tried to whistle. He climbed into the bushes. He got scratched by thorns in his attempt to get the dog to return. No sign of Derek.

Stiles huffed in slight frustration when he left the bushes and brushed some leaves and dirt off his uniform when he returned to the garden furniture.

"You and Allison absolutely have to reconsider getting your kids a pet so they can learn how to approach a living animal without scaring the crap out of it," he grumbled. He wasn't really mad at the children. Of course, it was very exciting for a kid that wasn't allowed to have pet to see one in the yard all of the sudden and expecting the pet to desire some tender loving care. He loved those children. He wouldn't be their godfather if he didn't love them as if they were his own. But he was mad about this whole Derek mess. He was mad that he knew he was kind of over challenged right now. He was mad that he felt responsible for an animal that obviously only did what it wanted to do. He was mad that the dog had jumped into the Jeep and he was mad that he had run away just like that – again. And he was mad that he had run into this absolutely surreal and strange and awkward situation here with his friends behaving like the most idiotic people in the world. He was mad that he didn't understand what the problem was here. And he was mad that he knew exactly what the problem was. But couldn't understand why it was a problem. It wasn't only about Allison being overprotective or having mood swings. It wasn't only about Scott trying to tell him that he was an idiot or about everyone eyeballing him.

This wasn't just about the dog.

Scott folded his arms, "I'm not quite sure who scared who here."

"Oh come on, you're a goddamn veterinary assistant, Scott. You know when an animal gets scared. And you know HIM. You said it yourself. You examined him!"

"Yes and I TOLD you, as a veterinary assistant, that it was a stupid idea to take him in. He is traumatized, scared and wild. I told you that this dog was a nut job. I told you that he is half wolf and half dog. But NO you wouldn't listen to me. You didn't want to hear that this dog needs special treatment. Treatment YOU can't afford! You should have left him at the sanctuary… Or are you doing this because you can't stand the fact that for once I am the one YOU should listen to? Is it so hard for you to be wrong?"

Stiles poked at the corner of his mouth with his tongue, thinking about what to say. They have had this conversation over and over again for the last few weeks. They were going back and forth. And now, Scott finally has reached his total asshole peak. This wasn't about being right or wrong.

"He wasn't happy there," he answered, "I had to take him with me. I had to give him a chance. He's my responsibility."

"And THAT is exactly the point. You think this whole town is YOUR responsibility. But in fact it's not. You are your own responsibility. Don't you get it? We're worried," Lydia hissed suddenly.

Stiles didn't even consider taking his seat again. Now, he was 100% sure where this was going. He moved his arms not sure whether to throw them up in the air again or cross them or just tear his hair out. He decided to shove his hands into his trouser pockets while starting to chew his bottom lip.

"Listen," he sighed, "this is not going to be another one of your 'interventions' okay? You do remember the Hale incident I told you all about three months ago? You heard it on the radio or saw it on TV. Huge fire. With explosions. In the woods. Really disturbing things probably happened there. And I still haven't solved the case. It's like a puzzle that is delivered to you with missing pieces. I still don't know what was going on out there but I know one thing for sure: It wasn't pretty. I feel sorry for that poor creature. So yes, I think he is my responsibility, because I was the one who found him wandering around in the woods, looking like a total mess and absolutely lost. It's sad. It's really sad," he took a deep breath, "seeing a living being suffering so much, seeing him tensing and flinching whenever there is a weird noise, never relaxed, always on guard. And even though he looks as if he is most likely to rip my throat out with his teeth while I sleep… he also looks vulnerable. So okay, I feel sorry for him, I feel pity and so far he's clearly ignoring my orders and just randomly acting on his own BUT I looked into his eyes and I saw pure horror in them until I decided to take him with me to give him shelter. Sue me!"

Everyone was exchanging glances. He hated when they did that. He hated how they have been giving him this constant feeling of being their top subject to talk about when he wasn't around. And he knew they did that. He knew his actions and behavior got constantly discussed – but never in front of him, especially when it was regarding one certain touchy subject.

"Well I could try to," Jackson commented dryly. Stiles just pulled faces at him. There was always this one phrase in which that jerk had to mention himself having become a successful lawyer.

"Stiles, this isn't only about that nasty beast-"

"Woah, woah, woah, hold on there for a second, Lydia. You call him a 'nasty beast' and you don't even know him. He hasn't done one evil thing. Allison just stormed off, dragging away her children, probably lecturing them now about how dangerous he is so that you all will start hunting him down with huge forks and torches. But right now and right here, he behaved absolutely adequately. I mean, he was just lying there in the corner, watching us, being on guard as usual and just minding his own business when all of a sudden a screaming, fast moving kid was kinda attacking him. Did he attack? No. He ran away. I'm sorry that not every dog fits in a Prada bag!"

Lydia sucked in her lips and blinked wildly at him. Maybe she was about to explode. Probably mood swings. Probably maternal feelings. Probably just Lydia being Lydia.

"Hey stop talking to her like that, dimwit," Jackson snapped. And Stiles rolled his eyes. The overprotective husband and about soon to be father just entered this whole discussion.

"Who asked you anyway," Stiles grumbled.

"You don't have to get so defensive about it…" Thanks, Danny.

"I don't get defensive. But I get the feeling I should start to!"

"A-ny-way," Lydia continued, obviously trying to keep calm, "as I was going to say… this is not about the… dog. It is about you. We're all tired of seeing you show up every time we have this get-together all alone, in your uniform, being really late and making us feel guilty. And you never even talk about it."

Stiles couldn't help it. He had to start laughing in pure disbelief.

"This is so ridiculous. I don't think that you really feel guilty. Why should you? I'm fine. It's not like I'm crying myself to sleep at night because I am not married and don't expect children and didn't get the dream job or anything. But I finally see what this is about. All the times you guys were harassing me with 'you gotta meet my friend Dana' and 'I'm pretty sure you and Fred will get along well' and all the 'you aren't dating anyone right now? Why?'s and now you think because I take care of a dog I have given up on life and have decided to stay like this forever and now you're pitying me because you married people can't possibly understand that getting married and breeding isn't everything to life. So there is nothing to talk about for me."

Stiles wasn't in the mood to discuss his life with them now. They have done that so many times that he had stopped counting and he had never been in the mood to discuss his choices with them – not like that. The older they got the more they started behaving like a bunch of mother hens. At some point in his life they had stopped listening to him but started telling him what to do or not to do. He even felt judged by them. He was sick of it. He had enough of it.

"We only want what's best for you, dude," Scott mumbled. He pouted. He gave him this awful puppy look that he always did when he had to apologize or when he felt guilty. But Stiles was immune to it right now.

"Then how about not telling me what to do. How about letting me live my life the way I have chosen, huh?"

"Because we don't think that you are living your life the way you want to," Lydia answered quietly. For some reason she looked hurt. She always looked like that when he ignored her best intention. But this stupid conversation was too annoying. He couldn't stop these angry feelings rushing through his veins right now.

"And you know that because…?" Stiles demanded. And again, everyone started exchanging looks, looking uncomfortable. He knew they wanted to say something. He knew where this was going. He just didn't know who would dare to say it: Is bet was either Scott or Lydia.

"Stilinski, stop being a moron. Stop being such a terrible dumbass." Jackson. If Jackson was looking at Lydia, getting up from his seat while rolling his eyes at him, trying to start talking some sense into Stiles, it never ended pretty. Stiles could remember every fucking awful and terribly annoying argument he had had with Jackson over the years and if he started to make this conversation be about Stiles and Lydia or Jackson and Lydia AGAIN, Stiles would probably have felt sorry for leaving his gun at home tonight.

"I think it's time t talk about the REAL problem here. We don't get along all too well, we're both aware of that and we have had our fights, alright. But let me tell you this: It was a huge mistake for you to return to Beacon Hills. It was a mistake to give up the opportunities the FBI gave you and it's absolutely pathetic, in a twisted way painful, to see how you are running around in this town, pretending to be a cop and seriously thinking that solving this stupid Hale case and possiblt becoming Sheriff could change ANYTHING. And well, yes: Every single one of us thinks that you are lying to us and to yourself if you really think you could fit into this role. You're not doing anything because it is really your responsibility. You only think it is. But in fact throwing away your life doesn't change anything. What do you think all this effort will be good for? It most certainly doesn't change the fact that you haven't moved on a single bit since your old man suffered from a stroke. Everyone knows that, everyone is worried but you, idiot, would never listen to your friends. This is not really about you and this damn dog or your single life or your workaholic attitude. This is about you living in the past, trying to change the past. And if you don't want to listen to your friends, who had always cared for and loved you, and if you don't to listen to me then maybe think about this: Would your father really have wanted you to-"

"You better not finish this sentence," Stiles grunted. Yes, he didn't want to hear it. He was well aware of how much everyone had worried about his well being since his father had fallen in this terrible state. He knew that they only wanted what was best for him. And yes, he knew that everyone knew that he had returned to Beacon Hills, had become a cop and had started to work really hard to become Sheriff just because his father would never be the same again. But they had never really talked about it. He had never wanted to. He had sealed himself off from them. They had never been as close as they had been at high school or at college – because he didn't let them get through anymore. And he hadn't told anyone about the thing with the FBI – except for Lydia who glanced at Jackson because she wasn't supposed to tell anyone. She wasn't supposed to tell them that the day his father suffered a stroke, he also got the chance for an application as a profiler. He had never really intended to work for the FBI and he had never even thought the FBI would be interested in a guy with a Masters degree in folklore and mythology. Lydia was the first one to know back then, because they were both studying at the same college, because they had gotten really close friends during their college time despite their… well, complicated past. But now the day had come when the big news blew up and everyone was staring at him, not believing their ears.

He didn't want them to know that he had given up a big chance to be here. And he didn't want them to talk about it because Jackson was – as awful as it sounded – right when he said that Stiles was lying to himself. Of course, he would have loved to take the job at the FBI. Of course, becoming a police officer in his hometown wouldn't improve his father's condition. Of course, he knew he was running away somehow. But he didn't want to hear it.

And he most certainly didn't want a person like Jackson to say anything about what his dad would have wanted for his son.

"No, I will finish what I was going to say because someone has to do it! I am sick of my wife worrying every day and I am sick of everyone constantly talking about you and how desperate you are. It's getting on my goddamn nerves. Get your shit together, Stilinski! No matter what you think your responsibility is: Replacing your father is not it!"

For a second, Stiles considered answering. For a second, he considered explaining to Scott why he hadn't told him about the FBI. For a second, he considered blaming Lydia because she had told Jackson about it. He considered yelling at Jackson to mind his own business and then taking his seat again, grabbing another beer, pretending as if nothing had happened. Because that was what he had been doing for the last couple of years: Pretending. He pretended to be perfectly fine everyday when he actually wasn't alright at all. He pretended to not notice that his friends knew he was pretending. And his friends pretended to not know that he was.

Instead of trying to talk to him about this one really big problem, they started talking to him about all this superficial stuff. And the dog really wasn't the real problem. The problem was that no one dared to ask about Stiles' father and Stiles never talked about it. The problem was that he couldn't move on and couldn't move back in time.

The problem was that everything was too painful. It was too painful to think about it, to talk about it or to move on and forget about. It wasn't only too painful but impossible for him. Thinking he would be able to fill in the gap his father had left made it at least possible to think about something different, to have something to talk about to people he could talk to and to feel as if he would move on when he really wasn't moving on.

Suddenly, he didn't know if his father could really be proud of him right now.

Suddenly, he didn't know if he could be proud of himself.

But instead of starting to talk about all that, instead of talking about his true intentions and feelings, he put his sunglasses back on and muttered in suppressed anger, "I think this conversation is over now."

And he turned his back on them.

He heard them saying all their 'Stiles, don't go's and 'wait, let us talk about it's and Lydia scolding Jackson and Jackson defending himself and Allison and the children returning to the yard and all the noise around him but he preferred to run away a little longer.

And then there was still Derek.

Derek who could be anywhere.

He yelled his name. He ordered him to come as he was walking through the yard, passing flower beds and vegetable plots.

"OKAY FINE. DO WHAT YOU WANT. I WILL GET INTO MY CAR NOW AND DRIVE HOME. EITHER YOU GET HERE THIS INSTANT OR YOU FIND YOUR WAY BACK ON YOUR OWN. I DON'T CARE FOR YOUR SHIT NOW!" he yelled. It wasn't fair to focus his anger about this ruined evening on the dog. But that impossible animal was just the tip of the iceberg.

Surprisingly, Derek jumped out of the bushes and crossed the yard, trotting, passing by all the people who tried to call Stiles back, giving them a sort of judging look. He made it into the Jeep in time, before Stiles closed the door and jumpstarted the vehicle.

"I'm sorry, buddy, no steaks for us tonight," Stiles mumbled at him after some minutes, reaching out his hand to caress the dog's left ear for an instant, not really taking into account that Derek usually didn't like to be touched randomly – except for this time.

And somehow the anger flew away.

Because somehow it felt good to not feel alone right now.

Maybe, he thought for himself, he needed the dog more than the dog needed him.


End file.
